The Dixon Girls
by A.S. Hitch
Summary: When you're Melanie Dixon, your life is completely abnormal to the social norm. You have a family that's made up of completely unique characters, but above all, you enjoy life. That is, until you move from your home and placed into a segregated world of social castes. And now, the world doesn't seem so pretty anymore. But that's life, isn't it? Boy, does life suck. Contains OCs.
1. Chapter 1: Enter Melanie Dixon

**The Dixon ****Girls**

_"Ain' no one goin' t'mess with us unless they wan' a whole gang a' girls at their heels armed with our boots and the nearest blunt object we can find on the side of the road."_ _-Lillian "Lollipop" Dixon_

* * *

From the day I was born, I could tell I was different. It was a sort of subconscious thing more than a tangible thing. Sorta like how you get scared when you stare into your worst fear, even though to another person that fear could be something completely adorable. Like cats or dogs. Not that I'm afraid of any cat or dog. (I freaking love them so much). Due to this little intangible difference, I never made many friends, if any, in school. I guess you could call me an airhead, but even then that wouldn't be very accurate. I can observe better than most people, but that just may be because I'm so darn quiet most of the time. It wasn't like I wanted to be quiet, but Katrina would skin me alive if I got in trouble in school. I don't stick out much, compared to the other girls. I stand at about five-foot-three with dark, amber-like honey hair that was far from straight, but smack dab in the middle of wavy and curly. Bouncy? I don't know; but it's just above shoulder length and complete with a set of wind-swept bangs. My eyes are bright emerald green and I have more lanky/lean muscle than those jocks you see on TV and stuff; my boobs aren't fabulous either, but not like you were asking.

Speaking of asking, no one in my family had called me to help move anything into our new house. Yes, new as in we just moved here from our home in North Carolina. I wasn't sure why, since one day Katrina announced that we were moving, but I never bothered to protest or question. Sure, I would miss the Tobacco state, (it was my home after all), but it wasn't like I was missing anything important. Besides school that is. The house we moved in to wasn't fancy. A simple two story home in the town of Tulsa, Oklahoma. The yard isn't something to show off, and I admit, the place was a tad run down, but not unlikeable. From my place in the bedroom I shared with Noelle, I could see my sisters shuffling boxes into the house. This was all the tag-along stuff, as I called it; just the lingering things from NC that were in the back of the moving van. All our furniture had been brought in the previous day, so we were all set for the most part.

After sitting around for a while longer, I decide to get up and walk out of the house. But just as I guessed, a hand caught my elbow and I turn to face my second-oldest sister, Katrina. Now, Katrina is like any other girl I've ever known. Her hair was a dark, rust brown, cascading down her face until it rests just below her shoulders. She was sharp in every way except her face, which looked soft and delicate on a first impression, but when you really get past that, she's tougher than a nail. If it weren't for the fact her face was stuck in this scowl-like expression, I would tell you her almond eyes are the most beautiful of hazel, so much so that it rivals the beauty of stain-glass windows. It was this same sharp woman that's the most responsible out of all of us, though I wasn't sure why. Even though Dylan's older than all of us (she being eighteen and Katrina being seventeen), she was never one to take charge in most subjects, besides defending us of course.

"Where're you goin'?" Katrina asked in a stern tone. "You know it's not safe t'be out at this hour. And 's a school night."

"I was just going to explore a bit…" I tried to tell her, but when I say exploring I mean I want to be gone for hours on end and come back caked in mud. Katrina opened her mouth to say something else but she was quickly cut off.

"Oh, lay off, Kat," hollered my other sister, Lillian, whom we all call Lollipop. She hated her real name and cursed anyone to hell if they called her by it. Except teachers; but even then she insisted on being called Lollipop. Now, the said girl, like Katrina, is a whole other league. She never wore make-up or skirts or heels; She didn't need to. Her hair wasn't really wavy, but it did this little curl at the tips that stubbornly stayed no matter how many times she's straightened them. As for the color, it was a vibrant lollipop (hence her nickname) blue. She dyed it regularly, being blue one month, then three months later, a nice bubblegum pink. Lollipop did this so much even I had forgotten her real hair color at one point, but her hair isn't the only thing that sets her apart from other girls. Her personality was like a kindling fire, she always loved the thrill of adrenaline running through her veins. The very thought of a fight would get her jittery and her assertiveness usually got her to the places she wanted to be. _She's a loose cannon_, Katrina always says. However, when Katrina said this, Lollipop would always respond with a '_I ain' a loose cannon, jus' a free spirit.' _ Those deep blue eyes of hers could read through anyone and they also resembled the sky she so desperately wanted to fly in.

"She's not goin' out by herself on a school night," pressed Katrina, releasing my arm to glare at Lollipop, who was lounging on the porch swing.

"Jus' cause 's a school night don' mean she cain't take a walk," she rebutted. "You make it sound like she's goin' t'be on the opposite a-town."

"It doesn't matter where she's goin'. She's stayin' here. _After_ school you can go on a walk, maybe," she turned to me as she said this. "But you are _not _goin' anywhere t'night." Lollipop opened her mouth to defend me again, but I sighed and waved it off.

"It's alright, Lolli. She's right, it's pretty late, and we've been moving things around all day." I assured. "I'd rather not get lost in the middle of the night." Though Lollipop frowned, she gave in and stood up, rolling her eyes as she sauntered into the house. "Oi, Ruth! Ya better not be stickin' those fingers int' my stash! I paid f'those!" Katrina shook her head and sighed, aggravated. I giggled and kissed her cheek before following Lollipop inside. I wished those two would get along more, but I can't always get what I want.

Upon entering the house yet again after my two minutes of fresh air, I am greeted with the sight of the rest of my family, plus Lollipop, now situated on the couch. Lazy bums. I guess moving into a new place really did nothing to boost your spirits when there's nothing to do. But I couldn't help but wonder, why did the others just not opt to sit on the armchair or loveseat? It looks more comfortable if they didn't squeeze together on that tiny couch…

The first one to greet me was none other than my eldest sister, Dylan. Dylan's not only was she the oldest, but the tallest. I had no idea how she could stand at five-foot-six and not be intimidating, but I guess it's her completely laid-back personality that set everything off. She wasn't a smart-aleck (that was Lollipop's job) but she wasn't down right serious either. Her hair was more similar to mine, except her shade of blond was more wheat colored rather than dark amber. It was also thicker and was constantly kept in either a topknot or down. It's a pain to style, she says.

"Hey Mel!" She greeted loudly, waving enthusiastically and somehow managing not to smack Ruth or Lollipop in the face. "'Bout time you came downstairs! I was jus' tellin' Ruth 'ere how if you wasn't gonna come down 'ere I was gonna drag ya outta there ma'self."

"Dylan, you moron," Ruth huffed, dodging that waving arm to avoid being hit. "She came down before ya noticed! Maybe if ya weren't so caught up in that episode a' Tom 'n' Jerry ya woulda noticed her!" Ruth was more like Katrina in terms of personality and facial expressions, but her true talents lied elsewhere. If I could name the smart one in the bunch, it'd have to be Ruth. She's the one that always got good grades in school and had a pretty good knack for sports like football and baseball (that would only be if the boys in our last school would let her play) but never got into it enough to earn a scholarship. But it did earn her a nice tan. Though we've been in the same family since my birth, she and I never really conversed unless Lollipop was around. Ruth's hair leaned more towards the brownish-red side (that's because of Ma) and cut in a much shorter style (almost like a boy's) but her eyes were the same shade of Katrina's. Hazel.

"It really isn't her fault, though. The show is pretty interesting," Noelle shrugged. Leave it to her to mediate the two of them. It was normal for her to do this, even if fighting did freak her out more than anything in the world. She was like that pretty lady taming two wild lions at the circus, always calm and had her head down to earth. She looked exactly like me, save for the eyes, which were a pure silver-blue grey and her hair was longer. She was also a year older than me, believe it or not. People always mistook us for twins. Yet for all the hate towards fighting, she was the first person to rush to someone's aid, whether they had a broken arm or slashed to ribbons. Blood didn't faze her in the slightest, but the sound of a fist colliding with someone's face was enough to send her into a mental break down. Bless her for being so kind. I'm glad she's not stupid and naïve, unlike me.

I walked up to Noelle and sat on the arm of the couch, slouching into a similar position like the rest of my sisters. It was a pretty chill night after that. No one wanted to do more than sit around and watch TV or chat, but soon enough we got hauled to the kitchen to eat by Lollipop. However, Katrina being the spoil sport she is, ushered us all to bed an hour after we had eaten dinner. We all gave in, with the exception of Lollipop, who grabbed her jacket and was out the door before Katrina could get her say in.

"Darn girl," She swore under her breath, but we were all used to Lollipop running off. She was not one to be caged in one place for very long. Soon after we had all brushed our teeth and changed into our pajamas, I returned to the room to find Noelle already dozed off on her own single bed. There was a book open on the floor and the lamp was still on. Plus, the sheets were kicked down to her knees as if it was hot, but it was getting pretty chilly, and after picking up the book and placing the bookmark in the correct place and turning off the lamp, I grabbed the blankets at her knees and tucked her in. She shifted and let out a tiny whine but didn't pull away. I chuckled and shook my head before climbing into my own bed. I didn't realize how tired I was until my bed hit the pillow and the last light that came from Katrina's and Dylan's room was shut off. And I was whisked off to dream world along with it.

* * *

**A/N: **_So this a new story I decided to start..._

_but on a further note, I am REALLY REALLY REALLY REALLY sorry about my other stories. I can't decide on whether to just leave them or take them off ; As you can see, I'm not that into Hetalia any more, and the Outsiders, plus RoTG and KH and multiple other __fandoms have caught my attention as of late. I may or may not just go and write a really crappy ending just so I don't have to see an incomplete story. So again, I apologize, but I'd rather not go back and cringe at the thought of those horribly written stories DX_

_So, moving on! I know the characterization of these OCs aren't the greatest, so I'll just give you a brief description of each for those of you who don't exactly picture them._

_Dylan Lucia Dixon is the oldest of the family, she's eighteen and is five foot six. She doesn't attend school, but works at a place (I can't decide what place that is just yet) that has a pretty good wage. She has thick wheat colored hair and brown eyes. She's not as responsible as Katrina, but she can take charge when she needs to. She's also laid back and it takes a lot to provoke her. She is also lenient when it comes to people doing stupid things and loves her family to death._

_Katrina Jenette Dixon is the second oldest, standing at seventeen years of age and five foot four. She attends school, but not as often as Noelle and Melanie. She has dark rust-colored hair and sharp hazel eyes. She wears a constant scowl on her face to keep the wrong people at bay and the only times she ever lets that scowl go is when she's sleeping and when she's with her family, if they're not driving her nuts._

_Lillian Marie "Lollipop" Dixon is the third oldest being sixteen years of age and the most irresponsible out of the six of them. She loves to poke fun at people and scare them for fun and hates staying in the same place for more than an hour or so. She hates anything to do with prim and proper girls and their boyfriends. Aka Socs. But she calls them meatheads instead. At the current moment, her hair is a vibrant shade of blue like the lollipops she loves so much. When she gets tired of those particular flavors, she swaps to another set and her hair color along with it. She also has deep blue eyes and hates her real name._

_Kylie Ruth Dixon is the fourth oldest and is more similar to Katrina and the same age as Lollipop. However, she has this "bored" aura rather than an intimidating aura. She loves sports and the outdoors and is usually being dragged around by Lollipop. The two are close for being polar opposites and they don't fight much, unlike Katrina and Lollipop. Ruth is the more independent of the pair, but every once in a while, she'll let Lollipop confide her ever-exaggerated stories. In turn, Lollipop lets her go on about how awesome the baseball game is, even thought the blue-haired girl has no interest in it. Has hazel eyes._

_Noelle Vivian Dixon is the fifth oldest and the quieter one in the group. She looks almost exactly like Melanie except she has straighter and darker hair and her eyes are a silvery blue. Noelle is the one with the levelheadedness when it comes to very tense and unbalanced situations, however, she completely hates and is terrified of fighting. Ironically she's the first one to bust out the first-aid kit when someone is hurt. She is closest to Lollipop and Melanie, though will turn to Katrina if the other two aren't available. She is also as responsible as Katrina and will often urge the others to not give Katrina too much stress. _

_Melanie Jane Dixon is the sixth oldest and youngest in the family. She's fourteen years old and a year younger than Noelle (making Noelle fifteen). She's more outgoing and different than most girls, but that would be because her family influences her as such. Insults don't bother her and she speaks her mind, a quirk of Lollipop's that had rubbed off on her. Due to this, she tends to mouth off a lot, especially if she's irritated. If someone is dumbfounded by Lollipop's weirdness or Ruth's blunt comments, she shrugs it of and says 'it's life.' She also has a streak of obliviousness when it comes to her surroundings, but knows when to run and when it's okay to punch the other person in the face. _

_Well, I hope this helps... reviews are much appreciated, and again, I'm terribly sorry about my other stories... Criticism is also appreciated, but no straight out flames. Please. And if you see any mistakes, please feel free to point them out!_

_Well, see ya next time!_

_-A.S. Hitch_


	2. Chapter 2: A Great Way to Start Today

**The Dixon Girls**

_"I just want to live life to the fullest. I'm being me. Is that so wrong?" -Melanie Dixon_

* * *

Waking up to a blaring alarm clock is definitely the worst way to wake up in the morning. Especially on a Monday, of all cursed days. It's worse than being shoved out of bed or having two ice cubes stuffed into your shirt because unlike the other two, where it just shocks you awake, it doesn't deafen you in the process. Whose idea was it to invent alarm clocks anyway? Why can't I just live out on the countryside where my alarm clock is the rooster? Ah, the joys of wishful thinking. Anyway, I groaned as I rolled onto my side, threw the covers off myself as I slammed my hand down on the alarm clock to shut it off. Unfortunately, it didn't, and over the ear-splitting rings, I could hear Noelle begin to shift and the damn thing still wouldn't turn off (my hand was growing tired from the constant smacking)! Eventually I got fed up with it, so I pushed myself off the bed, took the ringing monstrosity in my hand, opened my window, and tossed it as hard as I could.

"Stupid thing…" I mumbled to myself, but even through my irritation, the sound of the clock being smashed to pieces against the asphalt was completely satisfying. So much so, I leaned out the window and yelled. "That's right, ya darn clock! That's what ya get f'not shuttin' up!" If it wasn't obvious, I was most definitely not a morning person. I, like any sensible person, loved my sleep and being woken up like _that _isn't very ideal. Not only that, I didn't even realize someone swore when the clock crashed, but again, not like I really cared at that moment. Again, I was _not_ a morning person (it also brings out my accent, something I picked up from having four older sisters who have that same accent).

"Did you really have to throw it out the window?" Noelle grumbled. "And please don't yell so early in the morning, Melanie… Unless you want Ruth on your case again…" It took me a moment to process the information, but in the end I just grumbled under my breath and trudged to the bathroom. After I a quick shower and brushed my teeth, I threw on the first few things I grabbed from my closet. It was pretty basic outfit that consisted of white, "fitting enough," (meaning they weren't tight but weren't loose either) pants that stopped in the middle of my calf. I also wore a semi-frilly yellow camisole and a lighter-shade yellow cardigan to match. (Can you see the theme going on here? I love yellow). Once I was definitely sure I didn't look like a total moron with random tufts of hair sticking out of my head, I headed downstairs in the same trudge, but a bit more energetic since I was more awake now. On my way down, I passed a half-asleep Ruth and a rather stressed out Dylan. My two sisters were going through their normal routine, so it was easy to dodge them as they went to and from their bedrooms (doing things that ranged from fixing their hair to brushing their teeth). It was then I noticed Lollipop wasn't present, and she's usually the loudest one out of all of us… _did she not come home last night?_ I wondered as I slowly descended the staircase.

The first thing I sensed when I reached the bottom of the stairs was the aroma of bacon and eggs coming from the kitchen. My stomach growled, obviously wanting food. And who am I to deny it? So I poked my head into the kitchen to see that Katrina had already made breakfast (the girl was also dressed and ready which made me wonder what time she got up) and was already making the next person's, whoever came down the stairs next. Without looking at me, she handed me a plate with eggs and toast and told me to sit down. She didn't need to tell me twice; I was downing the food before my butt was in my chair. I paid no attention to the others as they filed into the kitchen one by one as they sat in their respective seat. Not like we had some sort of seating arrangement, but you never notice you sit next to the same person until you lean back and observe. Since I was doing neither of those things, I continued to eat till there were only bits left on my plate.

"Thanks, Katrina!" I practically sang as I stood up and went for another slice of toast. However, she seemed to know I was trying to get seconds and smacked my hand with her own. I let out a whine of protest at this. For once, I was glad I was more awake; otherwise I would've snapped at her.

"You have school in thirty minutes. Don't you have something better t'do besides eat?" Katrina chided lightly. I know she meant well… for the most part. But this got irritating after a while, and I wasn't sure if she was aware of my crankiness in the morning. Then again, I wasn't really sure of what she was aware of, other than danger.

"But my bag's already set…" I whined, a pout forming on my face. "_Please, _Kat? Ya know I don't mess around when it comes to school…"

"That was before we moved. Now hurry along and grab your bag. And try not t'make too much noise when you pass the living room; Lollipop fell asleep there." Oh. Well, that's one worry I can forget about, and I literally felt the tension being released in my heart.

"Lollipop's back?" Dylan spoke up as she nibbled on her own breakfast. "Didya manage t'see where she ran off t'last night? I noticed 'er on the couch."

"No, but I planned on askin' when she woke up. She prolly went on a quick walk," Katrina shrugged. By this point I had dumped my plate and silverware into the sink and walked up the stairs and grabbed my bag before heading back down again and checked the time. Fifteen minutes till school.

"I'm going t'head out now!" I called as quietly as I could when I was halfway out the door. "Noelle, you comin'?"

No later did those words fly out of my mouth did Noelle appear, ready to go as much I was. Soon enough, we were out on the mild streets of the Tulsa morning.

"The school's pretty close, huh?" I asked, peering at it as we walked. I saw Noelle nod out of the corner of my eye.

It was quiet as she and I walked side-by-side. The birds began to chirp and a light breeze blew by us, ruffling our hair. But I was wide-awake now, and silence is just not my thing. Minutes later I found myself skipping while singing out loud, not caring if people yelled at me to shut up; I also ignored any threats that came my way. If I wanted to sing, I was going to sing, dang it! However, as I sang, trifling thoughts began to plague my mind. Now, I wasn't a stranger to new schools or new people. If they ignored me, fine. If they wanted to be my friends, that's fine, too. Sure, I was a bit nervous. But what of Noelle?

From the corner of my eye, I watched Noelle walk beside me. I couldn't read her expression as she gazed at the path ahead of us. Was she nervous? Scared? I had to resist the urge to speak up, to ask her something, but I knew she wouldn't open up to me, not in public at least.

The thing about her is that Noelle was never really a speaker. She was kind, nice, delicate, and polite. Not to mention poise. (The girl used to take ballet for goodness sake). She was the kind of girl that parents would kill for; the "perfect" child. She never asked for much and never asked for anything in return. Noelle would care for anyone if she knew they deserved it. She would watch over a stray puppy, give food to a homeless person, speak up against bullying, the list goes on and on. The sheer ability of hers to care for everyone she meets was astounding to the point where you would think she mentally crashed somewhere in the back of her head. But I knew her better. She, like everyone else in our family, wasn't perfect.

"Hey, Noelle," I spoke, pausing my little tune as I slowed down to a walk. Noelle looked toward me, her silver-blue eyes curious as to why I suddenly stopped like that.

"Yes, Melanie?" Was her soft reply.

"Are you alright?"

The question seemed to surprise her, but she quickly shook off before I had a chance to say anything. Did I also mention she loved theater?

"I'm fine," she replied, giving me a smile. "Now don't sweat about me, alright? You and I are both equally nervous about going to a new school. And I also promised Katrina that I would keep you out of trouble today."

"Since when do I cause trouble?" I asked, completely offended by this. Well, my thoughts were more along the lines of, '_what the hell did I do this time?_'

"You don't, but Lollipop is bound to show up to greet us sooner or later and you know how she gets when she smells danger." Oh. Ohhhhhhh. That's what she meant. Now just realizing my misconception, I only rolled my eyes to hide my tiny show of stupidity.

"I can handle myself," I huffed and ended the conversation by continuing to sing and skip until we reached the schoolyard. The noise wasn't hard to miss and the sun was shining in the sky, illuminating the somewhat rundown school building. But that's not what caught my attention. No, a building would definitely not catch my attention just like that.

What did, however, was something completely different. The two very, very different groups that shined so brightly I thought I was looking at the sun.

It wasn't hard to tell just by looking at they way they dressed. The group on the west seemed to be the pristine, rich kids you see in movies. All their hair was clean and groomed; their clothes looked more like uniforms to some private school. The boys had these fancy button up shirts and slacks, and you could literally hear them screaming about how great their last football game was.

Beefed up fellas, if you ask me. Tall and strong and arrogant, your average jock, which is the worst combination you can have with a guy next to asshole, jerkish, and dumb. The girls, on the other hand, seemed no different. Though they weren't muscular or anything, their entire being screamed prim and proper and _rich_. Their clothes were impeccable, not a speck of dust on it. Even their hair was perfect, not a strand out of place. They seemed to make Noelle and me look bland in comparison. It was like looking at a member of royalty. Now that I think about it, I could almost see those boys on those white horses, riding off into battle to defend their country… Those kinds of people you could stare at for hours upon hours, day dreaming about them being the one to sweep you off your feet. While the girls would sit in those fancy dresses, sipping tea and eating the finest delicacies. Spoiled bastards.

However… I glanced to my right as my gaze seemed to permanently glue it self in that general direction.

Now on the East Side, there was the extreme opposite side of the West. The groups looked like they rolled through dust and grime for kicks before dowsing themselves with water that's been riddled with some sort of oil. Not to mention that they were just as loud as the jocks with a more rougher _and _tougher exterior. Kinda like staring at a wild feline or wolf as they fought for the alpha position. Street smart and completely dangerous when provoked. Yet, they were wrestling on the grass and horsing around, swearing without a care in the world; they were laughing their heart outs as well, grinning like fools. It was that different blaze in their eyes, however, that sent chills up my spine (in a good way); I've never seen anything as unique as that.

Yet as roguish as they appeared, I could only smile, somehow seeing Dylan and Lollipop wrestling among them while Ruth and Katrina stood by to make sure they didn't get in too much trouble (even though these East Siders seemed to do this every day). They seemed to have more character than out of everyone out there as well, giving off this aura of character platonically attracted my attention. Maybe I was just gazing at a particular group of guys in general… Who knew? All I know is that when I tore my eyes away from them, I began to note the girls' appearances. They had almost _too _short skirts, and their shirts barely covered their torso. Not only that, but they wore the one thing I wouldn't be caught dead in. Make-up. Even so, I couldn't help but have a budding respect for these people. Or maybe I just found them fascinating.

"C'mon, Melanie. School is going to start soon." Noelle nudged me, snapping me out of my thoughts and I instantly linked my arms with her as I practically dragged her to the front entrance, now ignoring everyone. Yet, something felt amiss.

Every step I took seemed to suffocate me in the sea of people. Conversations were thrown left and right, the same with insults, too. Fake laughs and giggles were mixed into it and it was enough to make me dizzy like the perfume. Oh heavens, the perfume. It was like thick smog that looms over a city and I could almost see it in the air. But it wasn't as thick as the stares I could feel boring into my back, watching the two of us walk through the doors and into the school. Boy, I could already tell today was going to be great (that was sarcasm by the way).

You know how I could tell? Because the school day officially started like this:

The moment I released Noelle's arm so she could open the door, a shadow suddenly loomed over me. It happened so fast I wasn't able to catch my balance right away.

"Hey, kid! Look out!"

I had no clue if that person was talking to me, but I found my body suddenly colliding with another's as I spun around as a reflex to the shout. I could feel myself falling backwards; my vision suddenly met the sky. But then, someone yanked my arm, sending me forward and caught me effortlessly.

Being the ditz I was, I was practically tense with surprise, my green orbs widening as my brain caught up with me. First, I had collided with someone and nearly embarrassed myself by falling flat on my face. Two, that same person was holding me. In his arms (I could tell it was a guy; girls don't usually smell like cigarette smoke). As I leaned against him like an idiot.

Wow. Good going, Melanie Dixon, I told myself sarcastically. Good job.

* * *

**A/N:** _Woo! I got down another chapter! I am so sorry for the long wait! And the crappy chapter. I spent a day and a half writing it all out then the rest of the time I was editing it. I know I'm not the greatest on descriptions, but if it's not obvious to anyone, I'm going by what the book says, rather than the movie. In the movie, the Greasers are from the North side of town and the Socs are from the South side (I may have switched the two...), in contrast to the book, where Greasers are from the East and the Socs are from the west. _

_Sorry that it's a bit more of a filler chapter than an actual plot chapter, but I promise I'll try to be better at it! ( ; v ; ) I'll try to update this story once a week, depending on if I have time to update it or not. School sucks, and since I have Drivers Ed, I don't get home still about 5:40pm when I would usually get home at around 2:40pmish at least. So not only do I have less time, I'm pretty beat after school. It's sooo boring DX_

_Oh! On note of the Dixon's accent, I based it off of my own Southern accent. I'm not sure if it's a pure North Carolinian Southern accent, and I'm not even sure on the accent when I finally introduce Ponyboy and his friends/gang. As for the slang, please excuse my poor attempt in sticking some in there._

_Anyway, enough about me complaining and making up excuses._

_Remember!_

_The Outsiders © S.E. Hiton_

_The Dixon Girls © A.S. Hitch, aka ME~_

_Reviews are much appreciated, and remember! Any __errors that you see, point them out! I don't have much time to review chapters during the week. If you have questions, feel free to submit them in the reviews or PM me!_

_Plus, a big shout out to my first reviewers _**LunarLillies **_and _**OldiesGirlWithAPencil**_~! I really appreciate it, guys! ( u ) *hugs*_

_See you next time!_

_-A.S. Hitch_


	3. Chapter 3: The Day I Met Him

**The Dixon Girls**

_"We refuse t'call ourselves greasers 'r socs not out of our own ignorance, but because we grew up in a world where social castes never existed. To us, 's all weird and strange and, above anythin' else, wrong. All this 'ere fightin' 's jus'... 's jus' wrong." - Dylan Dixon  
_

* * *

My heart stopped for about two seconds the moment my brain finally registered what was going on. The guy still had his arms wrapped around me (my sense of balance was a bit unsteady from the sudden jolt) as the adrenaline from the surprise coursed through my veins like a car in a drag race. Things were swimming around in my vision for a couple of seconds before I realized that I was swaying a bit on my feet due to dizziness. It's not the prettiest feeling in the world; I felt like I was going to hurl if it didn't stop soon. The person somehow sensed my distress and through the endless sea of conflicting thoughts, I heard:

"Are you alright?"

_Are you all right? Am I all right?_ The question echoed in my mind as the mental storm suddenly calmed. I'm certain I must've been pulled out of it more than I realized to ask myself something stupid like that. Of course I'm all right. I was just pulled out of reality due to shock because someone ran into me and pulled me up to keep me from falling. And that said person was asking if I was all right. Huh, I didn't know boys still had that sense of chivalry. Usually if someone knocked me down one of that person's friends would've come up and asked. Or maybe one of my sisters would threaten him to apologize (if they were here). Still, I managed reel my mental self back into place before standing up straight and responding.

"Y-Yeah, thank you…" I replied quietly (cursing my stutter in the process), looking up. I could feel this other shock hit me like a ton of bricks as my breath was stolen again and even the other person gasped a little. But I knew it wasn't from falling or running into something. It was a whole other ball game.

I could feel my heart begin to race more as I looked at him and he looked at me. Emerald met stormy gray-green and I could feel myself getting lost in that typhoon. His hair was reddish brown in a style that was squared off in the back and long in the front and sides, framing his face delicately. He couldn't be any older than me and was only a couple inches taller than I was. Plus, he was thinner than most boys. No, not thin. Lean. Leaner than most boys, the opposite of those beefed up jocks; but I liked that about him. He was different. He didn't seem like the kind of person who would mouth off someone he just met like all the others and _holy lord he was simply breathtaking. _He was no famous painting or sculpture, but staring at him just felt so… right. When I admitted that conclusion to myself to myself, I could feel my face grow hotter from embarrassment. The boy and I continued to stare at each other and felt the urge to speak or at least ask what his name was, I really did. And I could tell from the look in his eyes that he wanted to say something, too. But no words left our mouths. We could only wander deeper and deeper into each other's gaze.

And then, it was just the two of us, standing there in the schoolyard. The voices of the people surrounding us disappeared and the figures themselves dissolved into an illuminating light. It was like we had entered our own little world with just us and no one else. Everything made sense yet confused me at the same time. I was losing my mental battle, I knew I was by the sinking (or was it lifting?) drop in my stomach. The pregnant silence seemed to finally get to him, and he opened his mouth and whispered to me so quietly I needed to strain a bit to hear them.

"Wh… What's your name?" he asked in a delicate meek voice. "You're new, right…?"

I nodded slightly. "Yeah. M-My name's Melanie Dixon… I'm… kinda new 'round here." Oh, curse my accent to Hell. Way to state the obvious.

"Melanie…" he repeated, and I instantly loved the way he said my name. "My name's Ponyboy. Ponyboy Curtis." I giggled at that and that made him frown. "What's so funny?"

"I like your name. 'S original, it suits you," I explained and I could see the relief wash through his eyes. Then I understood. "Oh! I wasn't making fun of your name…"

"I know," Ponyboy replied, a tiny grin surfacing on his face. A question tumbled out of my lips before I could stop it.

"Have we… met before?" It was his turn to chuckle and the blush on my cheeks went from a pink to a nice red.

"If we have, I reckon I woulda recognized you sooner. Wouldn't forget a face like yours even if I tried."

"Are you flirting with someone you just met, Mr. Curtis?" I asked and he just gave me a cheeky grin.

"Are you implying that I am, Miss Dixon?"

Something clicked inside me at that moment. And I didn't want to let him go. I felt like if I let him go right now, I'd never see him again. The thought of not seeing Ponyboy again made my heart drop. It was so strange and new… and scary. The kind of scary you wanted to avoid at all times. It was then I realized I was terrified, but not of him but by _what I felt of him_. Just what the heck was this feeling? I immediately tried reprimanded myself. _No, Melanie… Those thoughts are dangerous. No. Remember what Katrina said? Stuff like this lands you in trouble. _ But the attempts for futile and I pushed myself passed the point of no return. _But…_

Wait, why the heck am I contradicting myself?

"Melanie?"

Immediately, he and I pulled away and the spell between us shattered. I hoped that no one saw us for the sake of what pride we had.

"S-Sorry, Noelle…" I muttered to her, and then turned to Ponyboy. He and I gazed at each other again. I didn't make a move to break it and neither did he, maybe because we didn't want to. It was silent between us for a moment before I broke the silence.

"See you later," I told him softly, giving him a small smile. I don't know if he smiled back, I had already turned around by that point, rushing into the building alongside Noelle, who had been looking at me curiously the whole time.

"What was that about?" she asked me. "You stared at each other for a full two minutes before pulling away." My head was hurting just from thinking about the answer. (I didn't even know that conversation happened in two minutes). I had no idea myself, because I haven't felt that way before? What exactly was that feeling…? I wasn't scared. But my heart was still racing… I was embarrassed, I mean, I nearly fell on my face. But that doesn't cause me to blush. Suddenly, my heart began to race again just by remembering his face. I had never seen anyone so captivating before…

"I just got distracted, that's all." I replied with a shrug.

I nearly laughed at myself for coming up with such a crappy excuse. But instead, we let the topic drop and just continued our way to the office where we got our schedules, and right on time, too.

The students were just filling in as we entered our first classrooms. And I thought they were loud and chaotic outside. The hallways were a lot worse, and I didn't even think it was possible for the volume to increase in density. I guess being jam packed into a secluded area makes things louder. The West Side kids still hollered at the East Side kids. The East Side kids came up and threatened them and that quickly escalated into a small brawl. I had tugged Noelle to our first class (which happened to be an elective class, thank goodness) to escape the madness. But I don't know what really happened after that. The rest of the day was a blur and I never witnessed Ponyboy again. He ceased to leave my thoughts, though… it was like a mental projection of him created a special place in my head. I could see it so vividly. His face, his smile, heck, I may have gone delusional because I swore I heard his laugh at least once. Because of this, I couldn't think at all. Words whizzed passed me like bullets straight through my head and I couldn't even get a coherent sentence out. Before I knew it, Noelle and I were sitting in our last class of the day.

"You alright?" Noelle whispered to me as we sat in Biology. "You've been spacing out all day."

I managed a nod, but that was it and that was the first and last time she asked me that question. I never side-tracked my thoughts from class, but there was a question that had been bugging me all day. Eventually it got to me, and as we were taking notes on taxonomy, I ripped off a piece of my loose leaf paper and jot down a quick question on it before passing it to her (good thing we had tables instead of desks). So much for being a good child and paying attention, I must be turning into Lollipop.

'Do you think I'll see Ponyboy again?' it read. Noelle frowned in confusion, and then she realized whom I was talking about and tittered quietly. I blushed and scowled at the overhead, viciously taking notes as Noelle wrote her answer and passed it back to me.

'You mean the boy you met this morning? I'm not sure. There are a lot of people at this school.'

I sighed, slumping in my chair as my face leaned against my arm. ''Kay. Just wonderin'.'

'Just have faith, Mel. But be careful, all right? Don't let it get to your head.'

My eyes narrowed at that. Have faith? Because some _adorably hot_ guy decided to talk to me (the sad thing was he seemed to be the only decent guy around these parts)? Right. I'd run the risk of being hollered at for detention by Katrina before that fact would come true. And as for it all being in my head, aren't emotions generated through the brain anyway? _This denial is really getting old_, a voice told me, and I resisted the urge to bang my head against the nearest wall.

Screw you hormones. You don't know me. I know me.

But for some twisted reason, fate - or was it coincidence? - decided to have something in store for me. Funny thing was, it didn't happen til three weeks later. By then, I had learned/heard every single label under the sun. Label meaning the names people stick on each other, the two common ones being "Greaser" and "Soc"; the runner-ups were "hood" and "trash." The words Greaser, hood, and trash were directed to the people whom I addressed as the "East-siders" up until now. Vice versa with the "West-Siders" and "Socs". I had no idea what they labeled Noelle and me, but my guess was "Soc" due to the nicer clothes and she and I wore every day. The greaser girls would sneer at us every time we passed them, but the soc girls outright ignored us. Only the few considerate ones actually invited us over to chat with them. Even so, I felt like I was talking to a robot because the girls' way of speaking was just so… generic. And predictable.

"Where did you get those clothes?" "Who's going with out with who?" "Oh! Are you trying out for the cheer team?"

That kind of thing. Eventually, Noelle and I just opted to sitting outside in the schoolyard under a tree. We both agreed that it was much better than being suffocated with questions and topics we'd never get into.

After lunch, English rolled around (one of the only classes that Noelle and I actually shared) and I found myself at my seat by the window yet again with Noelle claiming the spot next to me. When the bell rang and the teacher strode in, the class started and I let my mind wander. Before long I found my ear catching the word "project" and I immediately averted my attention back to Mr. Syme (was that his name?).

"For this assignment, you will be paired in partners to discuss and analyze one of Shakespeare's plays. This includes, but is not limited to, Hamlet, Romeo and Juliet, As You Like it, and Much Ado about Nothing. Both people are required to write their own analysis after answering the reading questions, which I will hand out in a moment."

Great, partner projects. I glanced over at Noelle, who caught my gaze and nodded. In return, I gave her a tiny half-smile; guess we'll be partners again.

"And before you get comfortable, I'm the one who's going to be choosing your partners."

Groans filled the room as kids slumped in their seats with either scowls or pouts. Mr. Syme hushed every one up and began reading off the list. I listened carefully over some of the 'yes''s and 'aw, man...'s. My name hadn't been called yet, and I was beginning to get antsy. I really didn't want one of those meatheads as my partner, or one of those prissy girls. They'd make me do all the work.

"Miss Noelle and Mr. Cade."

I saw Noelle frown a bit in disappointment since we couldn't be partners. That only made my anxiety worse. There were only a couple of people left, most of them being the meatheads who were flashing each other looks. I averted my eyes forward when I saw one of them look in my direction. _Please, Lord, _I prayed mentally. _Please let me get a decent person to work with. Please let me get a decent person to work with. Please-_

"Miss Melanie?"

I snapped my head up. "Yes?"

"You and Mr. Curtis will be partners for this project."

_Curtis? Oh my god, no way… _I turned around in my seat and scanned the room. I had to shift to see the back, but when I did, there he was. Ponyboy must've seen the surprise on my face as his lips suppressed a small chuckle. However, the surprise faded away quickly and I gave him a smile back before turning to face forward again. I didn't pay much attention after Mr. Syme passed the rubric out and went over it.

Noelle gave me a knowing smile and I rolled my eyes.

"It's just coincidence," I whispered to her in the quietest voice I could manage.

"Coincidence has nothing to do with you being happy about it," She replied, obviously pleased that she knew the truth.

I scoffed and rolled my eyes again. But what could I say back?

She was right, after all.

* * *

**A/N: **_Ahhhh! I'm so sorry for the late update! I was having trouble on what to put! I hope it wasn't too crappy. But it's hard when you have a horrible writers block and ya just don't know what to put. ( ; v ; ) So, notes for today._

_I made Ponyboy and Johnny in the same grade due to them being pretty similar in age for only being two years apart. It was never mentioned what grade Ponyboy was in, but since Johnny seemed to not go to school often, I figured he would've gotten held back a year like Two-Bit. _

_Note Two: sorry if it seems like I'm rushing things a bit ( ; v ; ) And for the somewhat crappiness of this chapter. I'm trying as best as i could but I feel like Ponyboy is OOC... Especially when he and Mel conversed for the first time. UGH. agwiojagwioje;ogwijwg;wawiegwjgejioe And does anyone know the 60s slang equivalent for "That sucks" or "That blows"? It's sort of needed since Lollipop especially tends to swear and complain a lot HAHA~_

_Third and final note: Reviews are definitely appreciated as well as criticism! Just no flames, okay? If y'all review more I'll attempt to work extra hard! *makes a pitiful attempt to boost self-confidence*_

_The Dixon Girls (c) A. S. Hitch_

_The Outsiders (c) S. E. Hinton._

_Well, I hope you enjoyed the story! See ya next time!_

_-A. S. Hitch_


	4. Chapter 4: Enter Lollipop Dixon

**The Dixon Girls**

_"My sisters may be a bit out there, but they're my family. And family looks out for one another. Whether it's throwing the next punch or tending to their wounds." -Noelle Dixon_

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[POV Switch: Lollipop's POV]

With a name like Lollipop Dixon, there are only a few things that may come to mind. One, you can imagine a completely hyped up girl who's capable of being the biggest airhead on the planet. Two, a girl who's just using a childhood nickname, and three just some random girl who decided her name was going to be Lollipop. Out of three, I can tell you that only one of them is correct, but even then it doesn't even dent the surface of why I chose Lollipop to be my name instead of my real one. I can certainly tell you that lollipops are the closest thing to heaven on this planet (in my eyes) and they're as soothing as a pacifier is to a baby. I'm completely obsessed with them; so much so that anyone, and I mean anyone, who touches my stash will face my wrath. But over all, you can say that I come by as a little bit different from most girls.

By little I mean a lot.

I don't know what Melanie says about me half the time when we're not hanging around each other (if she says anything at all) but I'm sure she's said a bit of the truth. It's true that I never wear make-up, heels, or skirts; it's also true that my hair is blue. As for my natural hair color, it's an odd mix of brown and blond, but it's more brown than blond. (Brown with blond streaks? I don't know). Personality wise, well, you've lost me there. I can't exactly describe myself without sounding a bit narcissistic, but in all honesty, I'm a free spirit. I never liked being chained down to a place or to a person in a relationship, not that anyone in their right mind would like a girl like me. You see, I'm the type of girl who likes to act before she thinks; the type that doesn't give a rat's ass what you think of me. Why you ask? Well, why the hell would I give a shit about your thoughts? Intangible things do nothing, because that's what they are. Intangible. So if you think I'm crazy or you think I'm nice, good for you. If you hate me, then go die in a hole. Or somewhere where I won't hear you spew all your pointless ramblings about how _I _should be the one to go away. Don't get me wrong, people are entitled to their own opinions, but there are just some opinions that I don't want to hear.

Opinions like Katrina's, my older sister. Now, don't get me wrong. I don't completely hate her, but the girl was always hounding at me to "get off my lazy ass" and "use my common sense". Those two were the most common phrases next to "why the hell is there blood on the floor?" Did I mention I have a love for getting into trouble? Well, I do. It's more of the rush of adrenaline I get that I like, not the actual situation itself, but if you piss some off, the majority of the time they're going to do something about it. That good majority got me into a lot of fights, which even though they weren't my fault, I still get yelled at for coming home bruised and bloodied. Most days I just shrug it off, but there are times where it's just ridiculous and I have to yell.

Like how I reacted when Katrina roused me from my sleep around noon, long after Melanie and Noelle left the house to get groceries and started yelling at me for leaving last night. Not like this was news to any of us, she and I are like water and oil. We don't mix and we never get along. So much so that every time we fought the tension between us escalated rapidly. Within minutes she and I would be vociferating our clashing opinions over a stupid topic. Again.

"You know you worry Melanie when you just go off like that!" She hollered, completely seething with irritation as we both stood in the living room, towering over the crowding furniture with our arms crossed and our feet planted firmly against the force of our own glares. I squared my shoulders and glared back at her in utter defiance, resulting in her to return the glare twofold. "For once, can't you do somethin' responsible? Jus' where the hell were you, anyway?"

"Would ya jus' get off my case?" I hissed back. "I ain' no child and I ain' no dumb broad who jus' got kicked ou' on th' side of th' road! I know Mel worries 'bout me, but that don' mean ya can jus'fy this and attempt t'rule my life! So quit stinkin' your nose int' my business n' lay off!"

"I'll stop "rulin'" your life and stickin' my nose into your business, as you like to put it, when you start learnin' common sense!"

"I got common sense! How else ya think I survive every day?"

"Survivin' doesn't have anythin' to do with this! You always land yourself in trouble, and you know what stops that trouble from happenin'? Common sense! But ya don't use it!" Suddenly, she threw her arms up and groaned, obviously fed up. "Ya know what, f'get this. I'm done with you for t'day and I have work to go to." And with that she turned her heel and strode towards the awaiting front door just as Dylan appeared out of nowhere, nearly scaring the heck out of me.

"Don' let 'er get to ya," Dylan reassured as she patted my back once Katrina stormed off to work. "Kat's jus' stressed." I, however, snorted and rolled my eyes at Dylan's comment.

"Right. And I'm peachier than a peach pie," I huffed, crossing my arms over my chest. Well wasn't this a great way to start a Saturday. "And don' start with the 'she cares 'bout me' crap. 'S a load of bull and ya know it! Dammit, Katrina! That girl jus' makes me so-" Suddenly, I could feel the polished surface of a baseball bat collide "gently" with the back of my head and slight pain blossomed at that tender spot making my hands fly to it and rub it lightly.

"Jus' shut up," a stoic voice monotonously commanded. I only grumbled and turned around to see Ruth standing there in her usual day attire (which was a pair of light white-washed jeans, a white shirt and her beloved, yet faded, red, black, and white baseball jacket), holding the said bat with no hint of shame. "An' get dressed in fresh clothes. We're goin' out."

"Wha'?" Was the word that managed to escape my lips. "Ya hit me with a bat then ya demand we go out? Ruth, stop sendin' mixed signals will ya? 'S _very _unattractive." She hit me again as Dylan covered her mouth with her hand, visibly shaking with mirth.

"Jus' get dressed. I tol' Mel n' Noelle we'd meet 'em in ten." Ruth said, her frown deepening a bit. "Unless ya want me t'leave ya here."

I think it was the few times Ruth's seen me react so fast. Once I threw on my favorite pair of jean shorts, a black tank top, my old, loose, purple and plaid shirt, and boots, she and I raced out the door.

* * *

We met up with Melanie and Noelle not too long after we left the house. The sun was sitting high in the sky and smoking up a heat wave fast. Not the most comfortable weather to be parading down the streets with grocery bags in your hands if you know what I mean. Ruth urged us to hurry as we dropped of the said groceries at our house before ushering us out again. Well, by us meaning me. Both Melanie and Noelle insisted they had homework to do and left no room for me to persuade them into joining. Then Ruth remembered she had work and took off without another word. Before I left, however, Melanie did give me three dollars and told me it was hers and that I could by whatever I wanted with it. Cheeky girl, she knew just one dollar would buy me enough lollipops to last a long while, let alone three. I figured it was her way of apologizing for not being able to come along.

So the uneventful day rolled by like dusty tumbleweed and before long it was getting a bit dark out. The sun was hiding just over the horizon and the stars were just waking up, twinkling overhead like glitter. Surprisingly, it had been relatively quiet out. In any other situation, I would be talking my head off or singing a short tune under my breath, but I was silent. I had no words to say or someone to convey them, too. It really sucked not having work on some days and it was just as bad not knowing where the hell I was going. I looked up to see a DX station not too far out, but at the pace I was going, there was no way I'd make it there within five minutes.

The minutes continued to spin around like lazy children in a field and there was still nothing to do. By this point I decided I was going to go back to the house, but as soon as I turned, I could hear a car pull up behind me. A dangerous grin made its way to my face and I couldn't help but put a small spring in my step. _Took 'em long enough_, I thought to myself and the car swerved in front of me, cutting my path and three socs stepped out. All of them were tall and big to me (I was probably a good three inches shorter than the shortest guy); curly, fair hair topped their heads, but their posture was far from nice. They were drunk, and just to prove my point, the middle guy flipped open a canteen and took a long swig.

"Look, guys! We got ourselves a _girl_," he slurred, laughing as if his own sentence was a joke. I felt myself go a bit green; drunken idiots like these weren't very pleasing…

"How can ya tell that's a girl, Rich? I haven't seen a girl with blue hair, before," one of Rich's friends said, stepping closer to me. But before he could go within arm's reach, I stepped back, though I made no move to yield.

"Whatever ya want, I ain' interested," I said coolly, but the grin never left my face. "Maybe when you're sober 'n in th' right mindset. Even then ya got no shot."

"Aww, don't be like that, darling," Rich insisted. It didn't take long for him to reach me, with those long strides of his. "We'll show ya a good time. Just come with us. New girls like ya always come crawling eventually." His hand just grazed my cheek, but I grabbed it and dug my thumb into the pressure point on the flat of his wrist.

"I said I ain' interested, meathead," I hissed. Using my full weight, I managed to shove him back a good three feet. "Go back t' your side-a town. Your kind ain' welcome 'round here."

Whether it's the shove or my words that did it, I didn't know. But it was then I found myself swinging punches and kicks left and right. Rich blindly threw the first punch, almost taking me by surprise; I managed to dodge just in time, so I ducked and slid to the right before landing a hard kick to his solar plexus (I thanked the lord above I was wearing my favorite boots that had some sort of steel plate built into the toe). He coughed hard and hunched over in response, and in that brief moment of his paralysis, one of his buddies lunged and tackled me to the ground. We landed in a gasping heap, each struggling to try and over power one another. Dust sprayed everywhere as growls escaped from my throat. I had to ignore the oncoming dizziness when my head collided with the hard cement. The slight sting of scrapes was already blossoming on my arm, but I was _not _going down without a fight.

"Damn, greaser! Damn all a ya t' hell!" He barked. "I'll teach ya a lesson!"

"You jus' try, meathead!" I spat back just as he flipped us so he was sitting on my stomach with his knees digging into my right arm. I swung my leg up to try and knee him in the back; I didn't have enough force at this range and his fist connected painfully with my cheek. The familiar, metallic taste of blood entered my mouth after the second punch and I swore to myself when I realized the guy was wearing rings. Images and sounds began to mix and blur in my eyes and I gritted my teeth to keep myself from crying out. I didn't even realize he had gotten off till a swift foot collided with my stomach and ribs, knocking the wind out of me as a raspy yelp left my lips. But I wasn't done. I forced myself back on my feet and tackled the guy again, effectively kneeing him in the groin.

"And stay down," I croaked smugly, still managing a smirk through my (probably) cut face.

"You bitch!" He wheezed. "Adrian, get her!"

Two large arms wrapped around my aching torso and threw me to the ground. Miraculously, I grabbed the front of the guy's shirt and hooked my leg around his left knee, making us collapse in an exceedingly acute tangle of limbs. Another weight settled itself on top of me again, which made it hard to breathe; my vision was beginning to spot black but I could tell who it was just by the voice. It was most definitely not the guy I just knocked down.

"You'll regret messing with us, grease," Rich whispered in my ear and I knew that I was done for. My arms were scathing with scrapes, blood trickled down my cheek and I was positive at least one of my ribs was cracked. Not to mention my energy had depleted faster than I predicted. The Soc had a strong kick. And damn, what was with the horrible ringing in my ears? In a last desperate attempt to wrestle the guy off me, I managed to grasp enough air to let out a shrill cry that resonated through the empty streets.

"_GET THE HELL OFF ME!"_

"Shut up, bitch!" He roared back, raising his fist to strike me again. By this point, I had no energy left to fight back and just managed to glare at him with a look of steel before shutting my eyes and bracing myself for the oncoming impact. I could already feel my conscious slip. The seconds ticked by like minutes as I waited, but in the end, the hit never came. Instead, I could feel the pounding of footsteps on the cement, and I cracked my eyes open to see three hazy figures chasing off the Socs. They were hollering something colorful as they ran, but I couldn't process the words. Everything sounded and looked fuzzy and the ringing in my ears still didn't cease. My breaths came out in labored pants when I rolled onto my side and pushed myself into a shaky sitting position, leaning against the nearest wall with a groan. My arms just managing to hold myself up as I tried to focus on something other than the pulses of pain that washed over me and it was then I realized I couldn't stop shaking.

The shouts continued for, what I fathomed, a minute more before the footsteps began to head in my direction. I could feel the vibrations of it and it was killing my head more than the actual punches directed towards my face. Then I considered myself damn lucky that those guys were there to save my sorry ass. But hey, I fended off three guys. Though the pain, I actually felt a bit good. _Only slightly, _I noted in my head, a tiny, triumphant simper making its way to my face before I felt my conscious slipping faster.

"Hey," a voice suddenly said, cutting of my current thoughts as I felt a gentle hand being placed on my shoulder; my consciousness somehow stopped slipping at that action. "You alright?"

"Sodapop, does she look alright?" another voice asked. "She looks worse than I did when I got jumped last week."

"That's only because you were drunk, Two-Bit," a third voice remarked. "To think you of all people would be impaired by being drunk."

"Hey, that bartender slipped somethin' into my drink! Though I can't really blame her, I may have pushed the flirting thing too far…"

Sodapop, I presumed, cut them both off. "Guys, this isn't the time for that. C'mon. Two-Bit, pull up your car, and Steve, head back over to the DX and tell the manager we had to leave early today."

"Right, because the boss _loves _me," Steve (the third voice) answered, but he didn't seem to argue against it.

"And where exactly are we goin'…?" Two-Bit asked.

"Where do you think? Back to my house," Sodapop replied. "We don't have med supplies at the station, and I'm sure Darry could fix 'er up better than I could."

"True. Well, sit tight, buddy." And he left as well. I let out a small groan and pried my eyes open to a small extent.

"Oh, good, you're still conscious." I could hear Sodapop sigh in relief as I turned my head to look at him.

_Glory, he's handsome, _I thought to myself. He was really handsome and almost borderline pretty in my opinion. He had dark golden hair that reminded me of Melanie and brown eyes darker than the bitterest of chocolate. He had a bit of a tan as well. He didn't have as much muscle as the Socs, but he looked strong. A guy like him belonged on television or something. Talk about _attractive_. Heh, attractive barely covered that. He was _pretty_.

"You're going to be alright," he told me in a voice that was firm and gentle at the same time. "See? Steve's comin' back along with Two-Bit. Just stay with me."

_Sorry, handsome, _I replied in my head. _But when a girl's tuckered out, she's tuckered out._

I could hear another car pull up and the voices muffled again; I closed my eyes and let myself relax. Sodapop was still talking to me, but I couldn't register what he was saying. I just managed a few half-hearted grunts in response; I was too spent to do anything else.

I remember the ground disappearing from under me as a pair of strong arms carried my semi-limp body into a car. A soft voice caressed my ear and the last thing I heard before my world went black was this:

"_You're going to be alright."_

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**A/N: **_Yes, got another chapter uploaded! *prances around in a happy mess* Thanks for waiting patiently, guys! And thank you for the reviews as well!_

_Now, I guess you all might be a bit surprised as to the quick update. Thing is, I actually had this originally for chapter three, since I couldn't figure out how to do that romance-y scene between Mel and Pony. Obviously this chapter went through lots of revision, and I know it's still far from perfect, but overall, I'm pretty satisfied with it. Even though I had to cut out Ruth. But she'll be in the next chapter, promise!_

_P.S. Sorry for the crappy fight scene._

_P.S.S. Anyone know good stories as to how I can get better at writing all the canon characters? I feel like I'm making them REALLY OOC. Help of any kind is appreciated!_

_Disclaimer: The Dixon Girls © A. S. Hitch_

_The Outsiders © S. E. Hinton_

_See ya next time, y'all!_

_-A. S. Hitch_


	5. Chapter 5: Man I'm such an Idiot

**The Dixon Girls**

_"Sometimes, you jus' have t'sit step back from life's turbulent forces and watch it fly by. Life is tough, everything is tough. But you have to learn to make it worth while." -Katrina Dixon_

* * *

If I had known that this incident would've made my life spiral out of control, I would've just stayed at home that day. I knew things happened for a reason; hell, my whole background is full of this whole 'action and consequence' bullshit. But things spiraled out of control in a different way. … I guess I should explain a bit.

After Mr. Attractive (his name was Sodapop, if my memory serves me right) had picked me up after I lost consciousness, everything else seemed like a blur. I could only recall bits and pieces of being in a cigarette smelling car, being placed on a couch and a wet cloth being dabbed at my face, but as far as what I was saying, well, you got me there. I estimated I actually regained coherence and consciousness about one hour, forty-five minutes, and thirty-seven seconds (and counting) after my run-in with those Socs. _'Damn meatheads,' _I often found myself saying. Every day, no matter what the hell they were doing, I always had some sort of excuse to slander their so-called good reputation. It was obvious to me that they got the longer end of the stick, and while being on that end caused them to jump people and get rip-roaring drunk, I preferred to live life on the shorter end, where everything was wilder, rougher, and, ironically, better (for me anyway).

When I came to, I was on the couch in a house I'd never seen before. It was small, a little crowded, and a bit messy, but homey none the less. It was very… welcoming, even for its poor state (it was obvious that the house had seen better days). The warm light of a lamp in the corner of the room illuminated it, gifting the beat down furniture with a golden glow. As far as I could tell, I was alone in the room, which was odd considering how late it was (it was around seven or eight o'clock, I couldn't tell). I struggled to sit up due to the fact my side was cooking up something awful. I fathomed that the stupid Soc had knocked me in the side harder than I had expected, because sitting up was a bit of a struggle and when I did, it was just as hard to stay up without my elbows propped. With one more huff of annoyance, I managed to swing myself into an upright position, leaning against the back of the couch. When I got a better look at the place, I noticed a note (I assumed it was addressed to me) sitting on the still coffee table. Letting curiosity get the better of me, I picked it up and unfolded it. My assumption had been right.

_If you're reading this, it means that you woke up and no one is present in the house. I'm sorry about that, but I was charged with fetching dinner from the Dingo and had to leave you by yourself because the rest of my gang _(I think by gang he meant his friends) _had bailed for the night. Lazy bastards _(that was crossed out, but I could read it none the less and laughed). _I shouldn't be out too late, but either way, you're more than welcome to stay. Or leave, whatever makes you more comfortable. Waking up in a stranger's house doesn't sound too appealing. You dig?_

_Before I forget, and I know this sounds odd coming from a total stranger, but if you're ever in need of a place to crash, you're welcome to swing by. You seem like the kind of person who doesn't spend too much time at home. _

_Anyway, I'll stop wasting your time and close this sucker up. Again, I'm sorry about this._

_-Sodapop Curtis_

I had to read this a couple times because of the small errors in the grammar and spelling, but once I managed to decode it from the small problem of its illegibility, I was pretty surprised. _Either Sodapop is a naïve idiot or he's just that nice of a person, _I thought as the handsome blond flashed into my mind. _Or, he's seen me around and somehow managed to nail that last fact about me not spending enough time at my house._ Something told me that I'd see him again real soon, but I ignored the fleeting thought. After setting the note back down, I folded my hands on my lap and sat there for a bit as I thumbed through my mental option book.

Page One consisted of going back to sleep for the rest of the night, praying that whoever lived here didn't mind one bit. I would wake up to unfamiliar people, who may or may not be good people, and I would have to force out a lie about my identity. Not exactly the smartest idea, but an option.

Page Two stated that I just sit here and wait, bored out of my mind until someone other than my imaginary friends walked into the room. Again, I would have to introduce myself to unfamiliar people. I crumpled that up into a ball and hurled it towards the back of my mind. That idea was stupider than the first.

Page Three suggested that I just get the fuck out of here, maybe leave a note in return, and never set foot in this house again, forgetting this whole incident. Then move on with my life and have nothing to do with Sodapop Curtis, because I had this gut feeling that something weird would happen if I stuck around longer than I should.

It didn't take much for me to go with option three. Conveniently, there was a pen and a notepad sitting right on the coffee table so I could write my note. I reached towards it automatically and began to write.

_Sodapop Curtis,_

Why I started with his name, I don't know the reason, but I did.

_You're either the nicest, stupidest, or most naïve person I've ever met (or maybe some unorthodox combination of all three). Don't feel bad about leaving me alone; just consider yourself lucky that I have no interest in stealing from a person who saved my ass. I thank you and your friends for that. (That second sentence was a joke, I promise). And though your offer to stay in your home sounds nice, I have to decline. You don't want someone like me to stick around, believe me. I would tell you to try and forget about the whole ordeal, but forgetting someone with blue hair is like trying to forget you have ten toes and fingers._

_If you really want to go through and find me after reading this, you're fucking crazy. But I admire that, so I'll give you some food for thought. Try Buck's or the Dingo or the Coffee House. Someone should point you in the right direction._

_And since there's nothing else to say, I'll end it with this._

_See you around, I guess._

_-Lollipop Dixon_

I double checked to make sure it was readable before setting it down in a place I thought someone would see it, then stood up and stretched before padding over to the door, tying my boots on before stepping out onto the porch. The cool, night air felt good against my skin, and like a blanket, I felt at home. Nothing was better than a peaceful night like this, with the stars out and not a person in sight. I jammed my hands into my shorts pockets and leapt off the porch with ease before vaulting effortlessly over the fence. Then, I began to walk down the sidewalk, whistling a stupid tune to myself just as an old pick up sped past me, but I was sure no one noticed me, because the headlights weren't bright enough to shine in the shadow I was walking in.

I had made it down two blocks before I glanced back at the house. The old pickup was parked in front of it, and I saw three figures had just entered the home. I guessed that Sodapop and his friends/family just came home, and the sudden urge to walk back and appear on the doorway washed through me like a gigantic wave. It was like if I walked away now, I would never lay eyes on that house again, like tomorrow the house would be gone and I would be on a train heading towards God knows where. But I stayed the rock I was when it came to opinions and continued on home, still whistling that stupid tune.

It never occurred to me that I'd actually come into contact with Sodapop Curtis again. I thought that he'd toss away my note after he skimmed through it and move on with his life. That's what I would've done.

I was wrong.

* * *

It had been three days since I woke up in the Curtis' home and I convinced myself that Mr. Sunshine had forgotten all about me (I refused to refer to him by name). It wasn't like I expected him to actually go through with my advice, or maybe I had accidentally insulted him with my bluntness, who knows. But from then on, I had this itching feeling of anticipation in the back of my head, like I would be walking and he'd run up to me or something like that, I have no clue. Life had gone back into routine for me, with the exception of what I did during the day. Most of the time I would hang around with Ruth, but when she wasn't available, I would roam around Tulsa until it was time for me to report to my job (I was a bartender at Buck's, worked all the night shifts on weekends, and popped by now and then during the week).

I had scored lucky that Tuesday. Ruth didn't have work that day and she never goes to school on Tuesdays because of her own personal reasons (reasons I couldn't understand). As soon as I caught wind of it, I immediately snatched this golden opportunity by the ear and proceeded to drag her all around town, much to her distaste of being dragged around. It was bright for a Tuesday afternoon. The sun was high in the sky and no clouds obscured it from view. People walked and talked and shopped and occasionally gave us (me) a funny look. Mostly because of my exuberant behavior and appearance.

"-So yeah!" I exclaimed as i concluded another story of my adventures over the last two days. "So, how's th' ol' witch?" By 'ol' witch' I mean Katrina. (She and I are always thinking of insults to call each other).

"Ready t'murder ya," Ruth replied with her usual 'I refuse to speak more than a sentence in public' quirk. I barked out a raucous laugh, earning myself a couple more glares.

"Shoot, Ruth." I whistled. "When does she not wanna kill me?"

Ruth gave me this look that read 'Are you honestly expecting me to answer?' which made me cackle. We had been at this for the past hour, just talking, going in and out of stores, buying nothing, and walking back out. I had nicked a few lollipops and a lighter along the way, resulting in Ruth to smack me in the arm. I thanked the Lord she wasn't carrying around her baseball bat, but it wasn't like she would really hit me around with it anyway. The only times she would 'hit' me would be when she thinks my behavior is 'unjustifiably annoying,' and even then the hit was nothing more than a slight bump. That was the thing between Ruth and I. We would poke at each other constantly but none of us actually took it to heart unless we were fighting, which is rarer than a blue moon on a clear night. She and I continued to walk for a couple more minutes until we deemed that we were both horribly bored. And without anything to do, we began to think of uncreative ideas on how we were going to spend the rest of the day.

In the end, we had succumbed to tag-team shoplifting and causing trouble. Ruth didn't actually do any of the 'five-finger-discount' aspect of it, that was my job, but she was an expert at distracting people when I wasn't trying to draw attention to myself. So after swiping a couple more lollipops, two bottles of coke, another bottle of Cheerwine (North Carolinian pride, man), plus egging a Soc's car and slashing their tires, we found ourselves heading towards the Dingo, a drive-in just around the corner of a DX (now that I think about it, how did I not realize there was only one DX station in all of Tulsa?). The DX station was filled neck high with girls like usual, their skittish squeals and giggles could be heard from the lot. I cringed, just imagining all the women of Tulsa surrounding that one station. You heard a lot about the people that worked there from the gossip of the female body. Steve Randle was one of them. If the rumors were true, he could hubcap a car quicker than anyone in Tulsa, and he knew it too. He knew cars backwards, upside down, and forwards, and could fix just about anything with wheels. He was a natural at cars. I had no interest in Steve Randle, but Ruth respected anyone who had vast knowledge on cars. When she confessed this to me in an inaudible volume as we entered the Dingo, I teased her about it until she threatened to toss all my candy into a fire.

"I swear t' God…" she mumbled under her breath as she silently began to call me names no good woman should every say. The only one I caught was this: "Insufferable, annoying, bitch of a horny donkey-" I cheerfully ignored her and waved to one of the only decent people I knew in this beat up joint.

"Hey, Annabeth!" I hollered at the top of my lungs. "Ya got a seat 'vailable for us?"

The said girl immediately looked up at us with a bright, playful grin on her features. Her chocolate brown hair was down today, curling around her face in (what appeared to be) an annoying manner, because she tried to pull it back in a ponytail, only for her face frames to come draping back around. "Not for you, you good-for-nothin' hood!" she hollered back.

"Aww, sweets," I moaned dramatically, folding my hands on my chest. "You're breakin' my heart." Annabeth waved me off and laughed, unconsciously showing off her beautiful pearly whites. Now Annabeth wasn't exactly a friend of mine, but she was pretty decent. I only knew her because I dropped by the Dingo often. I didn't like her habit of nosiness though.

"Sit your ass down," she scoffed at me before turning back to whomever she was talking to. "Sorry about that. What did you want to order?"

I grabbed Ruth's arm and dragged her to the open booth, smacking Annabeth in the back along the way. She cussed me out like any good friend of mine would and sent me running to my seat with empty threats, along with a pepper shaker, following close behind. You bet I was sitting along with Ruth just as Annabeth was armed with the salt shaker. I smiled innocently at her, batting my eyelashes.

"You watch it, Lollipop Dixon. I got friends in this town," she warned, narrowing her eyes at me, but her playful smirk let any real danger fly out the window. "So what's it gunna be? The usual?"

"Ya know it!" was my answer and then I turned my attention back to Ruth, who was sitting back in the chair, fiddling with her thumbs, her eyes downcast. That was unusual for her. I began to have this unsettling feeling in my stomach and I was beginning to wonder if bringing her here was a great idea. Now I'll be honest, when it comes to social standards around this part of town, I was safe. I was a greaser, through and through. The grease in my hair was evident due to the fact I kept my hair in a perfect high ponytail with my bangs draping themselves around my chin and cheekbones. I swore, I got into fights, I stole, and though I never got into any trouble with the police, I had no doubt they were hearing stories about my doings. Ruth, however, was my total opposite. Her bedhead curly hair was the perfect blend of brown and red and held zero grease, bangs fell across her forehead and the rest hugged her face. Her clothes were dirt-free, even if they were a bit worn down with tough love like my own clothes. Her jeans could pass for new, her white t-shirt was fresh, and her beloved letterman jacket hugged her frame and sported the Cincinnati Reds' logo on the back. Looking closely, I could see she had dabbed a light layer of lip gloss and an even lighter layer of eyeliner. And I mean REAL light, like you had to lean in to tell she had any make up on if you didn't know her. Even if she didn't have any on, her whole being screamed 'Soc'. No wonder she was quiet, maybe she thought she was dragging me down or embarrassing me. I quickly glanced around to see that about everyone here (well, everyone meaning the few who worked here and the small outfit situated on the opposite side of the drive-in) was a greaser, or greaser-looking and were giving her odd looks; The same kind that those middle-class people were giving me when we walked through town earlier. It struck me that Ruth was a white sheep amongst a heard of black goats.

"Hey," I said, waving my hand in front of her face. "If you're uncomf'terble, we c'n leave."

Ruth blinked at me. "I'm not-"

"Bullshit. Hey," I waved my hand again when she averted her eyes. "Look. Ya ain' causin' me trouble. And there's no way in ma and pa's good name that you're draggin' me down. Understand?"

She blinked once. Then twice. Then, she did something unexpected. She kicked me in the shin, under the table. Hard.

A surprised yelp escaped my lips as I jumped, my knees colliding with the table. "Th' hell's wrong with ya?" I demanded, but my anger quickly melted away when I caught her grin, which she quickly covered with her hand. It was silent between us for a second, then, she and I burst into utter cachinnation. Well, just me. Ruth bit her lip and looked away, but her shaking shoulders told another story.

"Ya little bitch!" I exclaimed, shoving her playfully. "Don' ya dare try that stunt on me 'gain, ya hear? You're lucky you're my sister!"

"Sister?" Annabeth interrupted, slamming the food down in front of us. "You never told me you had a sister!"

"Yeah, well," I calmed down almost instantly, same with Ruth. "I'm not th' type t' babble 'bout my pers'nal life." I then produced a bottle of Cheerwine and slammed it on the table.

Annabeth rolled her eyes. "You're a funny one, Lollipop Dixon." She told me as she began to clean up a table. "You know, most people waltz in here and when you look at them, you can tell where they've been, what they've been getting into, who they're with, etcetera. You know what kind of life they come from because the people they hang with see it, and even if they don't hang about with people, the people who talk see it."

I chewed my food carefully. "Wha's your point?" I asked cautiously, turning my back towards her. I didn't like where this was going.

"My point, Lollipop Dixon, is that you're a complete mystery. You appear out of nowhere and disappear into thin air. I would think that with hair like yours you would've landed in the cooler by this point, but you haven't. The only time I ever see you is when you come in here and when you make your way into some sort of gossip that may or may not be true. No one knows anything about you. Hell, this is the first time I've seen you come in with someone other than those stupid drunk greasers and socs looking for trouble."

Oh, I definitely didn't like where this was going.

The sound of the door opening cut Annabeth off from her small rant as a voice greeted her. "Hey, Beth!"

"Hey, y'all. Go on and sit down. I'll be with you in a minute." Then she refocused her attention on me. "Do you understand what I'm saying? It's almost like you're thin air. People know you're there and it's almost like you're needed, but you're never seen. You drop by in unexpected intervals and you're the first person to stumble in here and not spill something about yourself, drunk or not. For three weeks you drop by here, for three weeks you managed to get on that nonexistent wanted list those socs have, and for three weeks, you've loned it all. And I've yet to hear a peep about you, I've yet to hear something other than 'the Girl who won last week's drag race', 'The Girl with Blue hair who managed to take down three big socs on her own', or 'The Blue-Haired Beauty'."

Ruth was staring at me now, her food abandoned in front of her. Her eyes swam with a cocktail of emotions. Curiosity, suspicion, admiration. I could go on and on.

"No one, and I mean _no one,_ from the East or West side, knows anything about you."

"Tha's a lie," I interjected, calmly sipping my Cheerwine. But I could feel my patience quickly slipping from my fingers. "Ya know now that I got a sister."

"Only because you brought her here!" She probably threw her hands up in frustration because I heard her sigh heavily. "Lord, Dixon. How do you do it? Even Dallas Winston's got himself a crowd to hang with, and everyone knows he's got a record longer than a mile! He's got people that know him and know of him. I could think of a thousand ways as to how you both are similar. For one, you both don't listen to reason or rules. But you, you're just… different. People know _of _you, but they don't know you. And-"

"Well maybe I don' want people t'know me! Have ya ever thought-a that?" I snapped, my patience finally running dry. I spun around in my chair, growling like a wild animal. "Has it _ever _crossed your mind that I keep my mouth shut for a reason? Has it ever crossed your mind that I don' wan' people all up in my business like 's own?"

"Lollipop," Ruth's voice cut through me like a whip. "Calm down."

I almost did. I sincerely did, but Annabeth had to open her lipstick covered mouth again. "So you only listen to her? Oh, I see. She's probably not even your sister. She's just some damn Soc dangling blackmail over your head-" That. Was. _It. No one talks about my family that way. Not under my watch._

Within seconds I crossed the room, grabbed Annabeth's shirt collar, and slammed her down onto the nearest table with a switchblade pressed against her neck, not giving a damn about the people who were sitting there. All my focus was on Annabeth. Her eyes were wide with fear and I was seething with anger, desperately trying to stay in control because I knew that if I didn't, I would kill her. And I wasn't ready to face the judge about manslaughter as I watched Dylan and the rest of my family being stripped from each other all because of my stupid mistake.

"You listen here," I gritted out. "An' ya listen good, 'cause I'm only gunna say this once. Don' ya ever, _ever, _say anythin' like that 'bout Ruth, ya here? Don' talk 'bout her, don' look at her, don' you even breathe 'er name. What I do in my time is my business alone. She has nothin' t'do with those fights I get in to. She has nothin' t'do with those stunts I pull. Ya leave her alone, and I'll leave your life alone. Got it?" I pulled away before she could respond, and when I turned around, Ruth was standing by me with the food in hand. No words were said, but she nodded towards the door, and the two of us left in silence, but we were both silent for different reasons. I was silent because I had a growing pit of disgust in my stomach. Ruth was quiet because she had nothing else to say.

* * *

We walked and walked until we made it back to our house. The car was sitting in the driveway, meaning that Dylan and/or Katrina was home, and it couldn't have been any earlier than three in the afternoon, meaning that Melanie and Noelle were home, too. It was pretty quiet, save for the TV playing in the living room and the sounds of someone cooking in the kitchen. I actually hesitated going passed the white, picket fence. I really didn't want to face anyone other than Melanie or Noelle right now. I guess Ruth didn't register my wishes because she continued to pull me, much to my protests, until we were inside of the house. When the door slammed behind us, Dylan looked up from the TV and smiled brightly, which made me smile back.

"'Ey y'all! Welcome 'ome! Where've ya been?" she asked, standing up and hugging us both. Ruth didn't respond, just slipping off her shoes and heading towards the kitchen to drop off the food, leaving me to answer.

"We've jus' been 'round," I replied honestly. "'Bout you? How was work?"

"Good, good!" Dylan beamed, ushering me to sit down next to her on the couch. "Did I tell ya yet? I gotta job at that Preschool on th' outskirts-a town!"

I choked on my own spit for a second. "Ya what? How?"

"Well, I was actually s'pposed t' jus' be a 'elper, some sort a babysitter, ya know? But th' las' teach bailed 'cause th' kids were so rowdy. The ol' couple who owns th' place needed someone t' take th' job, and since I'm th' only one workin' there at th' moment, I took it!"

My mouth hung there for a good minute before I let out a whoop and hugged her. "Congratz, Dyl! I know ya always wanted t' be a teacher, ever since ya graduated las' year."

"Yeah. But now I'll be able t' take care-a y'all better!"

That made me frown. "Aww, Dyl. Ya don' gotta do that. Ya work too hard."

Dylan just gave me a soft smile. "I work 'ard 'cause I wanna work 'ard for y'all."

I rolled my eyes and gave her a playful shove to hide the uncomfortable feeling in my gut that was progressively getting worse. By the time dinner rolled around, I was nothing but an emotionless pile of organs, muscles, and bones. I think Melanie had tried to talk to me every once in a while, but her words were blocked out by what Annabeth had said earlier. Sure, I had gotten mad at her for what she said about Ruth, but what she had said about me was true. The worst part was that she spoke like it was a bad thing. Like it was a bad thing I was such a mystery, like it was a bad thing I had no friends. I found myself asking Melanie that question after dinner, around eight forty-five at night. She was sitting at the desk in the study, still up doing homework like Ruth (but unlike her, Melanie wanted me around), and Noelle, Katrina, and Dylan had already gone to bed. It was quiet between us, and I was so caught up in my thoughts, the question slipped out of my lips.

"Hey, Mel. Is it bad that I have no friends?"

Melanie looked up at me in shock. "Well… if you're alright with it, then it's not bad. But if it's bothering you, then it is bad."

I let out a long sigh and stared at my feet as I sat on the desk. "'S jus'…"

"Something happened today and yesterday, right?" she guessed. As usual, she was right on the money.

"Yeah…" I replied quietly, but quickly dragged humor into the drab atmosphere. "But you're too young t'hear 'bout my problems." That caused a pout to appear on her face.

"I'm not that young!" She protested, crossing her arms and puffing out her cheeks, making her look like some blowfish.

"You're two years younger th'n me, kid," I chuckled, ruffling her hair. "Tha's a lot in my book. Now get t'sleep. Ya got school t'morrow, don'cha?"

She looked like she was about to protest, but a yawn cut her off.

"Alright, alright. T'bed with you. 'Fore Katrina yells at me again," I nudged her out of the study and into her room, meeting little resistance.

"What about you? Aren't you going to sleep?" she yawned.

I shook my head. "Nah. I wouldn' be able t'sleep with my head clogged up like this. Imma walk 'round t'clear it."

"Then will you be back?"

"Jeez, kid. Ya act like I'm never around." Those words fell out before I could catch them, and what made it worse is that I knew it was true.

Melanie voiced my thoughts. "You're never around… But at least you come home every once in a while. I'm glad you're okay and all…"

She rubbed her eyes and fell onto her bed, not even bothering to change into her pajamas. I chuckled again and closed the door behind me as I left the room.

"Night, kid," I whispered, but I knew Melanie was out just as her face hit the pillow. With my head still stuffed with thoughts, I slipped on my boots and walked out of the house for the third time that day. But this time, I unconsciously had a destination in mind. Shutting the door, I stepped of the porch and strolled down the street, walking and walking and walking. It was just me and my thoughts. I vaguely remember what I was thinking about that night, but I do remember stopping suddenly, my thoughts clearing. My mind was screaming and screaming at me to turn my head. For some reason, I did.

And there was the Curtis house, standing just as strong as three days ago. Oh, who was I kidding? I had been three days. It's not like a tornado was going to blow through the neighbourhood. But three days seemed so long ago. A fleeting memory. Ruckus could be heard from my spot on the sidewalk as I continued to gaze at it; the only thing keeping me in place was my will and the metal fence. I don't know how long I stared, but it was long enough for a familiar face to appear in the window. Our gazes locked for a second, and if possible, his smile brightened and he subtly waved me to come in. I was tempted by the offer, but I shook my head no. He only rolled his eyes and disappeared and I thought he was gone for good, so I began to walk back. He surprised me when I found him leaning against the fence, practically standing right in front of me. His chocolate brown eyes stared into my blue ones, his smile just as bright as ever. I felt myself grin back. Just a little.

"Ya surprise me," I told him, breaking the silence. "Ya really do."

"I should be the one saying that," he countered. "I thought you didn't want to swing by, yet here you are." I shrugged in return.

"My feet took me here, as did th' wind." I mused, looking up at the stars. "I don' usually listen t' my feet, though." That last remark made him laugh a bit and I couldn't help but let my grin grow a bit. It fell silent again, but it was more comfortable than the last.

I spoke up once I found something to say and nodded towards the house. "Don' ya got friends in there?"

"They're in the middle of a poker game and I got out. No use in sticking around because I already know who's going to win."

"Ya know 'em that well, huh?" My voice grew quieter as I said that. "Lucky you…"

A frown made its way to his face and I thought it looked so… unnatural. "Don't you have friends?"

Annabeth's words prevented me from speaking and I visibly cringed.

"_People know _of _you, but they don't know you."_

"… No…" I finally admitted. "I'm alone…" Alone? What the hell did I mean by alone? I had Melanie, Ruth, Noelle, Dylan, hell, even Katrina when we got along. I tried to tell myself, questioning myself about my words, but I never found an answer. To this day, I never have. But I can tell you one thing.

I'm a loner. It's not always obvious, and sometimes it is, but it's the truth. I always did things on my own, even when I was with Ruth. I always did things by myself because no one understood me; no one understood how I felt most of the time. Melanie makes an attempt to try, but she's too young. What's eating me away is something we've all long forgotten. I was supposed to be strong, I was supposed to be the independent.

But at that moment, I felt just completely vulnreble. To think a stranger could make me feel this way. Or maybe I just let myself feel this way.

But in that moment, Sodapop seemed to sense my distress. In that moment, he opened the fence and held out his hand.

In that moment, in my moment of vulnerability, I smiled. And in that moment, I took his hand.

_Man, _I am such an idiot.

* * *

**A/N: **_w;oeigj;waeoijgw;eoijgwa;oijgwae;ojgaw;eoij I AM SO SORRY FOR THE DELAY, I REALLY AM. I JUST DIDN'T KNOW WHAT TO WRITE AND AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH._

_Forgive me if Soda is OOC, I've actually caught myself mixing his and Two-Bit's personalities up even though they're not that similar. Ahhh no excuse that this is late. _

_SO! Onto business. What are your thoughts so far? Good? Bad? Do you like the story from Lollipop's persepctive? Are you dying to find out what's going on with Melanie's? Tell me! Review~_

_Well, disclaimer_

_The Dixon Girls (c) A. S. Hitch_

_The Outsiders (c) S. E. Hinton_

_See y'all next time!_

_-A. S. Hitch_


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